One life surrenders
by Truemmerphantom
Summary: "Congratulations, foolish one." The 'final' words of a dying God.


One life surrenders...

* * *

"So, this is your answer, huh?"

All noise had ceased to exist. All fighting around the globe had stopped. All undead warriors ceased their movements at once. Mortals across all continents held in their breath.

"It is foolish of me to expect anything else from you, isn't it?"

High above the clouds, a dark dragon with six wings drifted through the air. Alone. A harbinger of darkness. Despair. Death. A seemingly immortal being of endless power. Despair.

"To think that you would face me all alone to ensure the safety of others... yes, I know, it was rather foolish to even expect such behavior from you, but that you would do such a thing..."

On the back of the dragon, two figures could be seen, facing each other. Two figures in matching, black coats with purple markings and gold trimming. Two figures with matching, white hair. Two figures with matching, identical faces. Matching bodies. Two women.

"How foolish."

One stood, the head of the dark dragon right behind her, it's six, red eyes glaring into the distance. The other lay face first on the dragon's back, their life and body slowly fading away.

"'The Fell Dragon may only be slain by its own power.' That was what Naga had told you, isn't it?"

An ear shattering roar filled the air and the standing figure chuckled mirthlessly.

"Barely two and a half thousand years passed since my creation and the fall of Thabes..."

All around the world, the undead roared to the heavens. The standing figure slowly walked towards her counterpart.

"Two thousand years since a foolish boy broke the seal..."

It took barely ten steps to close the distance...

"One thousand years since a glory seeking descendant of Naga's followers challenged me anew and won..."

The roars of the undead stopped. The figure stopped and looked down at the dying figure.

"And now you, a soul bound to me, a destiny bound to me, a fate bound to me, a life bound to me, a purpose bound to me, a _Creation_ that is supposed to _be_ me..."

The dragon's head stopped its roar as the standing woman smiled weakly.

"... you who were supposed to inherit my power, my purpose, my fate, my might, my blood... you who might very well be my daughter for all the souls that were sacrificed to create you... you who fought against all odds, who challenged fate, who fought a God head on, who drugged your comrades' water-skins so they won't foolishly throw their lives away on my back... who wrecked havoc on my spine like some rampaging drunkard who consumed ninety pounds of spirit dust through their nose..."

The standing woman knelt to the ground and heaved the still form of her counterpart into her lap, turning the dying form's body around so her slowly dimming eyes could stare at the skies above. The 'older' woman chuckled upon seeing the weak smirk on her counterpart's face.

"Congratulations, foolish one..."

The dragon's head came into view, three of its six red eyes sluggishly focusing on the pair.

"... despite all the odds thrown into your path..."

One after the other, the red eyes dimmed.

"... you managed to make me end myself... by slaying you, my own Heart."

The head moved skywards and let out a last, ear shattering roar... before it started to slowly turn into purple ashes, slowly, but surely, fading into the wind. All over the world, the Undead faded away one after the other, triggering roars of Victory from many mortal beings. The 'older' woman started to comb her fingers though the dying Heart's hair, a somber smile on her face.

"I never asked to be created, you know? I never wanted to be the 'ultimate being', the 'Fell Dragon' or whatever else these foolish mortals had called me over the years. But thanks to Forneus, thanks to Alm, thanks to that glory seeking brat... and thanks to my foolish desire for revenge, I became exactly who I once loathed to be."

The Heart's knees started to turn into purple mist, as did the dragon's wings and the 'older' woman's left arm. Both women watched with a detached expression as the appendage rolled off the fading dragon's back to turn fully into mist. The Creation couldn't help herself as she started to chuckle.

"It seems only fitting that I lose the appendage I erased the least lives with. That thing's probably far too ashamed to endure my existence any further, anyways."

A barely audible chuckle drowned in the winds, but 'The Creation' heard it none the less.

"Huh, still alive, aren't you? Well, good to know that my senseless ramble wasn't entirely... senseless. Yes, I know, it's not the best choice of words, but you get what you get. Be glad that you are able to bathe in the presence of a dying God, young Heart. "

Another weak, barely audible chuckle escaped the young heart's mouth before she started to cough purple mist. The fell god shrugged with her remaining shoulder, still combing through the heart's hair. The dragon's head detached itself from the main body as both slowly, but surely lost altitude. The Creation couldn't do anything else but smile mirthfully.

"Here we are, a God and her Heart, one talking about unimportant stuff to annoy the other, all the while vaporizing into nothingness. As much as I want to be angry at you, to torment you during the last minutes of this life, it would be meaningless. We still have a bit of time so we may as well have a bit of fun during our last moments."

The Heart coughed out purple mist again and her left hand slowly turned to ash, but she just smiled weakly afterwards. The God sighed, forming a cloud of purple mist of her own.

"... Of course your vocal cords have to turn to dust first. Oh well, I can talk for the two of us. The people of the world call me Grima... or The Wings of Despair, The Fell Dragon, That Giant Butthole in the Sky, the Evil Overlord of the Skies, The End of All, The Creation and whatever else floats through the empty space between their ears. Believe it or not, but my most favorite past-time activity besides burning down a village every now and then is the reading of romance novels. Ya know, these trashy wannabe masterpieces every noblewoman talks about behind their hands?"

A big section of the dragon's rear broke off as The Heart tried to stifle her coughs and laughs. She didn't succeed, but The God continued anyways.

"I don't like my creator, Alm, that glory seeking lord I talked about earlyer, Naga... and everyone else in general who isn't somehow connected to me _and_ isn't some power seeking idiot. Seriously, that lanky guy that impregnated your mother was only kept around because I wasn't in the possession of a better puppet at the time. I was primarily created to eternally preserve lives, not to throw the world into eternal darkness... Not that one excludes the other in any way, shape or form, but you get the gist, right? Right, you do, you're supposed to be smart after all... though... ramming burning ships into an enemy fleet _after_ you take out command? Really?"

The God's inquiry was met with a weak pout and the rest of The Heart's arms turning into dust. All in all, the dragon they were on top of wasn't really a dragon anymore. All that was left were an array of scales molded to the spine as they rapidly lost altitude. Smiling sadly, The God moved the dying Heart into a one armed hug.

"It seems this life is ending soon, don't you agree?"

The God's question was answered with the closing of glassy eyes and a breath of purple dust.

"Yes, yes, I know exactly what you mean. 'Why is that dashingly evil Dragon Overlady always referencing this to be a life of multiple others and not the only one?"

The Heart's barely existent breath was The Creation's answer. All of her skin and cloth slowly, but surely turned into dry, purple ash... mirrored only by her counterpart.

"Well, you know..."

The dragon's skeleton fell into the sea below, turning the water around it into a rich purple. The last words of the dying Gods were lost in the waves.

"Did you seriously believe that my power just disappears?"

 _May you live again... and pay for the consequences of your actions._

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 **Author's Notes**

* * *

Hi there.

This headcanon was stuck for _such a long time_ now inside my head it wasn't funny anymore, so I wrote it down. I'm kinda tired to see Grima as a thoughtless, incompetent overlord of the dead and overall evil puppy kicker of evilness with _no reason to do what he/she does whatsoever_ , so I present you this little piece of amateur writing.

I'm planning on using this little One-shot as a little prologue for Crossovers. I think it would fit very well for a RWBY-cross.

Otherwise: What do you like? What do you dislike? Do you like the 'final' moments of this Grima? Is it too unreasonable?

All in all, I thank you for reading my ramble. :D


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